Hello Again
by IBidYouAdieu
Summary: As Eleven tries to sort out how to deal with Amy's attraction to him, he gets an unexpected call from an old friend. Amy/Eleven, Martha/Eleven, with hints of Martha/Ten and Amy/Rory. Mickey and some of the Torchwood gang pop up, too. It's a Who reunion!


Hello! This is only my, what…fourth DW fic? Yep. Inspired by what I can only say is a very new, still developing fondness for the Eleventh Doctor, Matt Smith. _He's no Ten_, mind you. Ten (and the incomparable David Tennant) will _always_ be _**my**_ Doctor – but this new guy ain't half bad. And I started thinking…what could I do with him and another favorite character of mine? Set directly after "Time of the Angels/Flesh & Stone" and slightly AU.

How would Doctor Eleven and Doctor Martha Jones get along? Let's read and find out. Please, I'm extremely curious to know what you think of this. So be kind, and review! Thanks in advance!

Also, I own nothing. Except a head chock-a-block _full_ of plot bunnies.

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_**Hello Again**_

A _Doctor Who_ fanfic by kendrawriter

**I.**

He was pacing. Ah – he paced a lot more now than he did before. New legs. New, jumpy, impatient legs.

Had to pace.

And – well, he was bothered. He was bothered more these days, too.

Blast, that Amy Pond. She snogged him. Right on the mouth. Passionately. Grabbed his suspenders.

"Amy, Amy, Amy Pond!" He did a little skip-hop in frustration and resumed pacing. His eyes darted around the console room, his mind running a mile a second. The Doctor paced, biting his thumb, trying to figure what he should do about this unfortunate situation.

Amy was a clever girl. A brilliant girl, if a bit irreverent. He liked her. Honestly, he liked her, but she had misread him.

And…well, unfortunately he'd had to rather sternly insist that she stop attempting to seduce him. It was rather uncomfortable, to say the least. A bit embarrassing, really. He liked Amy, but he'd known her since she was a little girl and unfortunately all he saw when he looked at her was young Amelia, the girl with the crack in her wall. Of course, _of course_ she was more than that. He wasn't daft. He was a genius. But still!

"What to do…_think!_" He tapped himself on the forehead, and paced. Then he stopped. Sighed. He might have to leave her behind. She looked hurt when he told her to take ten minutes and calm down. Then she looked angry when he told her he wouldn't come out until she was less…fussed. Or was it until _he_ was less fussed?

He didn't _want_ to leave her. But, she _was_ due to be married in the morning and she _was_ trying to seduce him. There was a time, not so very long ago, when The Doctor was the kind of man who left people behind for lesser offenses than those. Not even offenses…just…inconveniences. Then again, he also wore _leather_ back then. He shivered with the unpleasant memory of _leather_.

"What kind of man am I now, would I leave her?' He asked himself, staring at the metal console floor.

As if in answer, a shrill ringing sound pierced the humming quiet of the console room.

The Doctor made a face and cocked his head.

The sound came again. _Riiiiing, riiiiing, riiiiing!_ He squinted, ducking his body this way and that, circling the console slowly to locate the source of the infernal noise. "Come out, come out…wherever you are…"

His hands flew over the console, checking nooks and crannies, as whatever it was continued to wail away.

Then he found it, hidden deep within the inner pocket of…his old coat. Which was slung over one of the handrails. Forgotten. Just like the…mobile phone. The mobile phone _she_ had given him. Ah, but how could he ever forget _her?_

Suddenly he felt a million times less bothered and his hearts swelled with fondness. It felt like it had been ages. Really, just one regeneration and a couple of years give or take, but _still_ - she kept his number! He hastily flipped open the phone, rocking happily on his boots and running his free hand along one suspender strap.

"Hello again, Doctor Jones."

There was pause, and then: "….Doctor…?"

His smile faded. Ah, yes. Last he'd seen her, he was a different man. The man she loved.

"Yes." He waited. Almost…in defiance.

Another pause, and something else. She sniffed. When she spoke again, he recognized that she was fighting back tears. He felt disappointment flood his body; and he thought of Rose. How Rose reacted to the possibility that he would regenerate, and become a new man. Not the man she loved. His jaw clenched.

_Not Martha, too…_

"I'm…I'm sorry…." Now she _was_ actually crying. He took two steps around the console; switching the mobile to his other ear, concern replacing the disappointment.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"It's…my mum." Her tears overpowered her then, and as happy as he was to hear her voice, he didn't like the sound of such sorrow in it. Not one bit. "My mum is dead."

The Doctor closed his eyes. "I'm coming."

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

Amy was fuming.

Honestly, did he think that was _easy_ for her? She frowned at her trainers, her brow creased so tightly that she was giving herself a headache. She felt her cheeks and temples flushed with embarrassment and anger. What went wrong; what _happened_? She had been _sure_ that he would…he said he cared about her. He pressed their foreheads together; apologized to her; told her that she was brilliant. Refused to leave her behind in the Maze of the Dead.

Had she been reading him wrong this entire time? Was she just fooling herself that such a magnificent creature as The Doctor would ever…?

Amy was now staring at her engagement ring. Rory. Oh, she was such a bloody fool.

Then the TARDIS door creaked open and The Doctor stuck his head out. "Fancy a trip?"

Amy clenched her jaw and turned to glare at him. He blanched under her fiery gaze and looked a bit like a little boy caught doing something naughty by his mum.

"Ooh…maybe not?"

Amy didn't say anything at first. She took a deep breath, gripping the little red velvet box tightly in her fist. She slowly unclenched her jaw and offered him a wide, cold smile. "Where to, Doctor?"

"No, not until we're sorted, you and me." He stepped out of the TARDIS and knelt before her, gazing up into her face, his eyes moving this way and that, hypnotizing her with their intensity, as they always did. An ages-old spirit gazed back at her from the depths of those eyes of his. Except now she resented them, where before she found them utterly mesmerizing. "Because Amy Pond, I do like you. You're brilliant – you _are_."

"Not brilliant enough, apparently," she mused, trying to seem nonchalant about his hurtful rejection. "Not as brilliant as your River Song…"

He crushed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. "Are you going to do this all night?" He sounded frustrated and a bit harsh. But then just as suddenly, he was looking at her again, a soft smile playing at his lips. When he spoke, his words grounded her heavily, but his tone was gentle. "Jealousy doesn't become you."

"Oh doesn't it, now?" She felt her jaw clenching again, because even as she realized he was absolutely correct, she still felt heated anger flaring inside. "What _is_ becoming to you, Doctor? Hmm? Is _anything_? _Anyone_?"

He hesitated, his eyes darting away for a flicker of a moment; that soft smile still there.

"Amy, I've got to go. Now. A friend of mine; a very…very dear friend of mine is in trouble and I have to be there. I wasn't there before, not nearly enough; I destroyed half her life and put her family in terrible danger and I…" He swallowed, his eyes sparking with something she didn't recognize. She had almost forgotten her anger, she was hanging on his words, but at the mention of a 'her' she came to herself again and wanted to scoff at him. "Well, she needs me now, and I've got to go, but I don't _want_ to leave you, Pond. Please come."

Amy was still angry. She still couldn't just _give in_, just like that. But of course she knew she would go with him – she'd spent half her childhood and years of her teenage and adult life dreaming about this man; her Raggedy Doctor. She would follow him now, tonight, again. Anywhere. But she had to put him in his place first. For Amy Pond did not fancy rejection one little bit, and even though she would now have to find a way to reconcile her feelings for him she could still not let him slide.

"You're a rubbish kisser, anyway."

She may as well have stuck her tongue out at him.

His smile brightened. "You caught me off guard."

She raised an eyebrow. "So you could do better?"

"Much."

"Prove it."

He hesitated. Looked like he was contemplating doing exactly that. He could never resist a challenge, this one. Amy's heart sped up, her palms becoming slick; something sticking in her throat. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head harshly, looking appalled. "_Pond! _I told you I'm old enough to be your great, great, great, great, _great_…oh just _come on_, will you!"

He stood up and grabbed her hand, towing her the short distance across her bedroom to the waiting TARDIS. Amy stuffed the little red velvet box into the pocket of her shorts, rolling her eyes and stomping along with him like a petulant child being carted off to Sunday Mass.

He dragged her into the TARDIS and let her go, rushing up to the console and starting in immediately on setting the course for their next destination. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the railing behind her, watching him work. She saw a long, sand colored coat crumpled on the floor and frowned, leaning over to pick it up. "What's this…? Never seen you wear it, is it yours?"

He didn't look at her as he continued his dance around the console. "Mine? Interesting question. Technically, yes I suppose it is mine but it's not _mine_, really."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"It's this _thing_, Amy," he shouted over the grinding TARDIS engine, flipping switches and pressing buttons and turning knobs as he moved about this way and that. "This thing that happens to Time Lords when they're about to…well, that coat, yes that coat is mine but only because my former self owned it. Wore it constantly, even in the summer."

Amy raised her eyebrows at him, holding the coat in one hand, staring at it.

She raised the coat up, stretching her arms out. "I quite like it. It's got style. Far better than that elbow patchy thing you're always wearing." The coat was very long. Meant for a taller man than The Doctor. She looked at him quickly again, pressing the garment against her chest. "Hang on, how d'you mean, _your former self_?"

He flipped the hand break and the TARDIS gave a jolt, causing her to pivot to the side. The Doctor caught her in his arms as the oscillating engine came to a gradual stop. The TARDIS landed with an echoing thud. He righted her and took the coat from her, gripping it about the shoulders and collar with both hands.

He looked into her eyes again, dipping his head. "Hey…that 'elbow patchy thing' is cool. And _this_…" he gripped the coat, "is not me anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if I'm wounded, Amy, _fatally_ wounded…when I'm dying…I change."

"You change how?"

"Everything, I change _everything_. I'm not me anymore but I _am_ me. It's called regeneration. My body literally heals itself, but I'm not _just_ healing. It's like a snake shedding it's…no, not a snake. It's like…a…worm turning into a butterfly? Erm, no…well, anyway the point is, I change. All my memories, all me, except _not_. I'm a different person altogether." He lifted the coat, as if that proved it, then tossed it behind him so that it landed on the jump seat in a billowy heap. "Now come and meet my dear friend Doctor Martha Jones."

He grinned and turned to grab his other coat – the elbow patchy thing. He slipped his arms in as he circled the console once to make sure all was secure. Amy barely had time to recover from the concept of The Doctor and regeneration and him not being…_him_…anymore. She set it aside for further contemplation later. As always with The Doctor, he was moving too fast for her to really _think_ about what he'd said.

"My, you certainly have a thing for the doctors, don't you Doctor?"

He wagged a finger over his shoulder at her, leading the way down the ramp. "Now, Amy, we agreed jealously doesn't become you. Besides, she wasn't a doctor when I met her. Only half way there, medical school, Royal Hope hospital, London. A fleet of Judoon bounty hunters sucked us up and beamed us to the moon and a Plasmavore almost fried the brains stems of half the population of Earth. Ah, the good old days!"

He paused, his hand on the door handle, a far off look on his face and a wistful smile playing at his lips.

"She saved my life that day…_more_ than that day, actually, several times." Then the smile faded, replaced by a shadow. "...and what did I do…?"

"Destroyed half her life, apparently." Amy crossed her arms again.

The Doctor looked uncomfortable, as if he was rethinking opening the door and stepping outside to face this Doctor Martha Jones. Intriguing. Amy had to admit, as much as what happened in her bedroom still stung, she was interested in meeting the women from The Doctor's past, and future in River Song's case. There must've been a reason why he was still alone; why he seemed to shed off the people he traveled with like a snakeskin. She wondered what _her_ fate would be. She wondered if Martha Jones could help her fill in some gaps.

Amy rolled her eyes and gave a grunt of exasperation. "Oh, shift aside scaredy-cat!"

She pushed past him and opened the TARDIS doors.


End file.
